


"How do I know you?"

by AnAngelAndHisDemon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cupid - Freeform, Ed Sheeran - Freeform, M/M, give me love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngelAndHisDemon/pseuds/AnAngelAndHisDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the song/music video "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran, Castiel is a cupid that seeks out humans craving love and helps them find it. However, he isn't like the other cupids; they don't have longings like he does. And when he meets a rather puzzling case, he has no idea what to do anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"How do I know you?"

Castiel was a lonely angel. He only had the bow he was given when he was first created and the snowy white wings on his back, protruding from his vessel's body after he had first possessed the man. He didn't even have arrows; he had to forge them himself, from cherry trees every odd month. The ends had one feather from his wings that was split into three parts and guided the arrows when he released them from his bow.

           

All Castiel knew was love.

           

But he never knew it for himself.

           

Day after day, night after night, the angel would be forced to leave his mattress, placed in the heart of Kansas City. He would go out, his wings outstretched, and blend in with the people moving busily around him. They would not notice his prescence; he could disappear and they wouldn't bat an eye. No, he was invisible to them. Him, his wings, and his bow.

           

_There_.

           

Castiel felt the two before he saw them. His eyes finally dragged themselves to the spot where he was told to go, across the street in front of an apartment building, and he watched them. It wasn't part of his directive, but this was the part he enjoyed the most. He almost felt _human_ watching them, almost felt emotion.

           

The man was constantly staring at her, a smile stretched across his face. He was listening to her speak, but he wasn't really listening. He was distracted by the way she constantly moved her curly hair behind her ear and the way she would glance up at him before looking away quickly, laughing nervously. And she was waiting, hoping, expecting him to make the first move because she wasn't sure if he liked her or not even though it was so _obvious_.

           

Castiel watched as they began to separate and he stepped away from the moving crowd, fluttering atop a light pole and balancing on it. He selected one of his arrows from his belt and drew it back far in his bow. He didn't have to draw it so hard, but it ensured a longer bond, closer and more intimate. And Castiel only wanted the best for them, even if he himself was aching on the inside.

           

The arrow was released, sailing through the air and striking the man in the back, reducing to dust as soon as it entered him. Castiel watched as his eyes widened, as if seeing the woman for the first time, and gathered her in his arms and kissed her fiercely. She was taken aback, but relief settled on her face and she embraced him back.

           

Castiel did not smile for the couple. Instead, he looked up into the sky, his wings stretching out to carry him upward, high above the city. He looked back down, suspended above the buildings and the noise, and he closed his eyes, allowing the sensation of love to flood his senses and block everything out.

           

_This_ was Castiel's favorite part.

           

Feeling the entire city, the love that humans had for one another, whether between friends, family, or strangers, was the best part of Castiel's duties. He could feel such strong emotions that he would never be able to feel himself but still gave him such strong pleasure, and an overwhelming sense of happiness. Because, despite all their flaws, human love truly did conquer all. And some would see it as a flaw, but it was the most perfect flaw they had.

           

Sometimes Castiel wished he were human.

           

He wanted to be able to live a short life, find someone that was made for him and him alone, and they could spend the rest of their human lives together, enveloped in each other's love and warmth, before joining together in heaven and intertwining their souls for the rest of eternity.

           

But then Castiel was reminded of the hardships of love.

           

He was reminded of heart break and pain and anguish, whether from someone outside the relationship or losing the other or the other causing pain. Castiel felt this too, this agony that humans had to go through, because he was the one that gave them the love to begin with. His feathers were in every person that ever loved someone because he had put them there and gave them that love. They were part of him.

           

And he felt their pain.

           

Castiel was the only angel that used his own feathers; others used doves or eagles or falcons, whatever their preference was. But Castiel _liked_ to feel the love and joy, even if it meant feeling the pain and heartbreak. Because at least then he could feel _something_ and pretend like he wasn't a freak. Like he belonged with them.

           

But he didn't.

           

He didn't belong anywhere.

           

Castiel felt another calling, another heart yearning to be joined, and he descended from his view point. He glided gracefully down to the top of a club and tried not to sigh. Clubs were always full of those who faked love, and most times he could sense it, but sometimes he was too distracted to be able to tell the difference. Sometimes fake love blended in with the real love, and he would end up wasting an arrow only to feel the heart break within a blink of an eye.

           

Nonetheless, he followed the stairs down into the club, and melted into the throng of people against one another. He was confused, looking desperately for where the toll of desire was really coming from, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Not with so many people throwing his senses off track. The harder Castiel looked, the more he thought he saw love. He ached to use up his arrows and strike as many people as he could before forcing his way out, but then he would feel that one desperate cry for love later and it would be amplified and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. He would have to listen as the heart cried and cried, begging and pleading with the angel to save it, and he would have to sit through everything. It would tear him and the human apart.

           

So Castiel calmed himself and focused.

           

He stood up by the DJ, whose view covered the entire place, and he searched. His eyes blew quickly over every person dancing, but it was none of them. Those seated in the lounge chairs never felt love for each other, only for the material wealth they held in their pockets and the pleasure they could potentially receive from one another. Castiel finally looked at the bar, and his eyes settled upon a man, hunched over and thoroughly engrossed in his drink. His physique was calm, but his heart and soul were screaming at Castiel to help him.

           

Castiel watched him, waiting for someone to approach that would cause that familiar rise in a pulse and dilation of eyes that would signal who he craved. But no one came up to him that caused that effect. Many women, and occasionally a few men, approached him, but they left quickly after, a look of annoyance on their faces.

           

Castiel was confused.

           

The man was so lost, so lonely, but he rejected others. They went up to him, but he simply turned them away without bothering to even give them a chance. He _yearned_ for love, yet he acted like he wanted nothing to do with it.

           

Castiel left the DJ and moved through the crowd to seat himself next to the man to study him further. The man didn't notice Castiel, just as no one else did. He simply stared at his brown liquor, his jaw hard set and his eyes narrowed to a piercing point. His face was hardened with years of hatred and anger, and Castiel wondered if this was why he acted as if he didn't want love. Because he didn't know enough of love to know that he wanted it so bad.

           

Another man sat on the other side of him and smiled at him, but it was a smile of familiarity, not one of a romantic love. It was a family tie between them, and Castiel deduced they were brothers. The other asked why the man was all alone, but the man simply grunted and offered no response. Castiel saw the other was very much in love, and he recognized that he had Castiel's feather imbedded in his chest. A woman approached the other man and he was lightened by the sight of her. She and him shared something unique; Castiel remembered them from only a year ago.

           

The other man attempted friendly conversation with a joke, nudging the original man — who he dubbed “Dean” — but he simply shook his head and asked the bartender for more alcohol. The woman frowned and reached for Dean, but the other grabbed her hand soothingly and shook his head, replacing her hand upon her stomach, where they both smiled fondly.

           

Castiel looked further into the woman's mind and yes, her love was split in numerous ways. She felt the love for the very large man, a strong bond, and a brotherly love for this Dean, but not on the level the large man felt for him. And then there was the maternal love she had, small but continually growing, for a little fetus developing inside her. Castiel would've smiled if he could feel happiness; maternal love was very special, and an everlasting kind.

           

Dean shook his head and offered them a false smile, saying his congratulations.

           

The larger man, Sammy, which was probably a nickname for Sam or Samuel, laughed and clapped his back. He smiled at the woman, such a heartfelt, warm smile, and she kissed him lightly on the lips before taking his hand and leading him out of the sweaty, thriving club atmosphere.

           

Castiel stayed to watch the man. He didn't know what to do; he had never been in a situation where a human simply wanted love from someone, anyone. He could detect jealousy in his mind, though he tried to suppress it. Jealousy of his brother, for being so successful in life, with a great, well-paying job, and an expecting wife. Castiel could see that Dean had none of these and was far from any of them.

           

Dean was a simple man who worked at a mechanics as often as he could and took the night shift as a busboy at a local bar. He spent little time in his old, dingy apartment and only had Sundays off, when he was expected to go with his brother and sister-in-law and parents to church to pray and thank God for such a wonderful life. But Dean hated every moment of his existence; his parents were disappointed in him for not going to college and joining in the family business of real estate like his younger brother did, and his brother only felt sympathy for him.

           

Castiel felt sorry for Dean, and insisted on following him as he left to go to his apartment. Dean did not have a car; they were too expensive. Instead, the man walked everywhere, and Castiel followed in his footsteps. He watched as Dean would look at people on the street and they would look back at him. _Through_ him, actually. It was as if Dean was a nobody to them; just someone who was sad, and lonely, and forgotten.

           

Castiel knew all too well how that felt.

           

Dean would occasionally stop and step aside and watch the people walk by, his eyes glazed over in pain, and Castiel was nearly deafened by the sound of his heart pounding against his chest while his soul was dwindling in hope. Dean lived a terrible life, but he did not end it because he knew he would upset people.

           

Dean kept living for others because he loved them.

           

He loved them _so much_ that their love was merely a passing glance to his.

           

Even his own family combined couldn't reciprocate the amount of love he held for them.

           

And yet, he was still crying out for love. Because he wanted someone else to care for him, and hold him close, and tell him everything was going to get better. He wanted to feel like he wasn't just going through life with nothing to show for it except that he was Sam's brother or his parents' son.

           

But he didn't know how to move from that spot.

           

And so Castiel stood with him, his hands brushing against the arrows at his hip.

           

_What if I struck him with one of them? Would he fall in love with the next person he saw? Would he be happy, or just experience more heartbreak?_

           

Castiel lifted an arrow and ran it down Dean's arm, debating the pros and cons in his head. The human shuddered but didn't notice otherwise. Castiel held back a sigh; he wished humans could see angels. Maybe Castiel would be able to talk with Dean, to help him help Castiel help each other. They were “in the same boat”, as humans often say, and the boat was sinking fast for them. They were going to drown unless they held on to each other.

           

"Dean," Castiel said, his voice scratchy and rough from a lack of use. "I am going to help you, but you have to trust me. If this doesn't work, I don't know if I will be able to fix it. But if it does, it may help us both. Alright?"

           

Dean offered no response, no recognition that he had heard the angel.

           

Castiel nodded and slowly, ever so slowly, drove the arrow into Dean's heart.

           

Time seemed to slow down after that, and the human stiffened. He blinked and looked around, his eyes wide and uncertain. He looked as if he was searching for something but couldn't find it, and he was searching _desperately_. Castiel watched, so enthralled at the human's movements, and Dean clawed at the area where Castiel's arrow had pierced his body. He was frightened, in even more pain then what he had originally, and he ran away.

           

Castiel so desperately wanted to follow him, but there was no point.

           

Dean hadn't seen him.

           

He was still no one.

           

The angel instead left to his mattress in the slums, laying down his bow and arrows. He was tired, and though other hearts were thudding to fall in love, he wouldn't fulfill their wishes that night. He wasn't ready for another challenge, especially another one he would likely mess up as he did with Dean.

           

Castiel knelt upon the ground and clasped his hands, staring up at the moldy, cracking ceiling, and began to pray.

           

"Father, I am lost," He began, his voice shaking and his throat dry. "I thought I knew my purpose when I came to Earth, to this city, but I don't anymore. I don't trust my actions or my thoughts. Why am I so lonely, so sad? I shouldn't feel emotions, and I know it is partly because of my feathers, but these are _my_ emotions, Father. I don't understand what is happening and I don't want to feel them anymore. Please...please, tell me what I am to do."

           

Castiel knelt, waiting for what felt like hours before he finally moved. He sat on his mattress and glanced over to his arrows. They were so tempting, so beautiful and perfectly crafted. They were meant to bring joy, happiness, and love to humans...could they do the same to angels? It was such a terrifyingly tempting thought, and it was tempting enough to make Castiel pick up an arrow. His wings shook behind him, shaking his whole body in turn, but whether with fear or excitement, he didn't know.

           

"Is this what you want, Father? For me to commit such treason?"

           

Again, a response was lacking.

           

Castiel gripped the arrow tightly and stared at the ceiling in anger. If his Father did care, he would tell Castiel that he was doing wrong and stop him, explain to him his purpose. Unless his Father didn't care; then it didn't matter anyway.

           

"Alright," Castiel whispered, and drove the arrow into his chest, collapsing on the bed.

 

* * *

 

Dean felt a pull in certain directions, and he couldn't help but follow that pull. His heart was banging against his chest, begging for him to relieve the pain he didn't realize was there, and this was apparently how to do just that. He ran for what seemed like eternity before he recognized that it was dawn.

           

However, the first thought wasn't that he was late for work.

           

It was that he had found what he was searching for.

           

Dean was standing in front of a door, and he kicked it open to reveal a very nasty, one-room apartment. It had only a mattress in the center of the room with a man sprawled across it. Dean stared at the man, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge, and a chill ran down his spine.

           

His heart was _screaming_ for this random stranger.

           

Dean walked over as calmly as he could and crouched beside him. He was curled into his trench coat, well dressed and well fed, so why was he in such a dump? Dean studied his face, and though he was pretty sure he had never seen him before in his life, he felt like he could tell how many hairs were on his head or the color of his eyes even though they were closed. His heart was beating so fast that it seemed dangerous, but Dean almost didn't care.

           

He reached out and touched the man's face, causing his eyes to pop open.

           

_Just as I thought: blue._

           

The man sat up and looked around before locking eyes with Dean. He stared at him for a long time and he reached out a shaky hand but he then retracted it after a moment of suspending it between them.

           

"Dean," He said in a gruff voice. It was a voice Dean had heard whispering to him throughout the night, leading him to this part of the city, to this apartment, to...

           

"Cas...tiel?" Dean asked, surprised that the name simply seemed to fit the man so well. He blinked and nodded, an awkward smile forming on his face as if he never smiled before. "That name...how do I know you?"

           

"I don't know," Castiel rubbed his chest, standing.

           

Dean stood as well and looked out the window. "I was just...I felt like I _had_ to come here." He looked back at Castiel, eyeing him up and down. "I don't know what it was..."

           

"It was love," Castiel said plainly.

           

Dean stared at him as if he had gone mad, but then, the idea didn't seem so odd. The blue of his eyes contrasting his dark hair, the dirtiness of his trench coat against his pale skin, it all seemed to fit in some odd way.

           

"Love," Dean repeated.

           

Castiel nodded. "And God."

           

Dean had to smile at that. "Well if we're going to talk about love and God, I need my morning coffee. Especially since I'm going to be late for work."

           

"Don't go to work," Castiel said randomly. Dean looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. Castiel looked down and added quietly, "I want to go to your apartment and talk. I want you to tell me about your brother and Jessica, and your parents, and your favorite food, and the music you sing in the shower. I want to get to know you, Dean."

           

Dean stared at Castiel and a small smile grew on his face and he walked towards him before grabbing his chin gently and placing a small kiss upon his lips, the action taking control of itself like he had done it a million times before, and he knew right then he was going to do it a million times again. He wrapped his other arm around Castiel's back and ran his hand over his shoulder blades. Castiel stepped back, surprise in his eyes, but shook his head at Dean's inquisitive look.

           

"I'm alright," Castiel reached his arm behind him and felt his back, smiling.

           

They walked out together to Dean's apartment, pausing outside the door

           

"I suppose this is our place now," Dean smiled and looked at him. "Castiel."

           

Castiel nodded and smiled back at him, "You can call me Cas."

           

"Cas?"

           

"I've never had a nickname."

           

The two stared at each other and it was a look burdened with love. It was one they would share numerous times within their lifetime, and they could see it in each other's eyes, and it was a completely human life that they were seeing.

           

"Why are you staring at me funny?" Dean asked.

           

Cas shrugged. "I'm just happy. It's nice to be happy."

           

Dean grinned and lead him inside. "Yea, it is."


End file.
